A Winter's Ball
by E Salvatore
Summary: Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say… and it has been two hundred years since they last met. Maybe that's why she doesn't mind him crashing her Christmas party.


**A WINTER'S BALL**

 **Absence makes the heart grow fonder, they say… and it** _ **has**_ **been two hundred years since they last met. Maybe that's why she doesn't mind him crashing her Christmas party.**

* * *

"Quite an impressive party you've thrown here, Miss Forbes."

It's a testament to the unpredictable nature of her long life and all of the curveballs she's been thrown that she doesn't show any sign of being taken aback by his sudden appearance. Her shoulders do not tense, her breath does not spill out in a gasp… and here he'd expected her to whirl around in a flurry of tulle and lace, one hand clutching at her heart in shock, eyes wide and wary.

"I learned from the best." She states evenly, still as calm and poised as a queen, and he can hear the smile in her voice. It's a beautiful thing, the upward curve of her lips, and he wonders if maybe that is what has drawn him back to her all these years later. He decides it's a worthy smile as she finally deigns to grace him with her attention and turns to him. "And no one's called me that in years."

"Caroline, then. They do still call you that, I trust." He says smoothly, not giving away the questions in his mind. It's been quite some time, even for an immortal, but he remembers with aching clarity – he remembers everything about her with aching clarity and at times it is maddening – how very proud she had been of her name, her bloodline. _Forbes_. The name even her mother had kept till her very last breath.

"They do." She concedes with the slightest hint of a laugh in her voice and gods, he's missed her laugh. He doesn't tell her this, doesn't tell her anything as he remains still under the weight of her scrutiny, her shining eyes taking in every last detail she's spent the last twenty decades forgetting. Finally, she looks him in the eye.

"Hello, Klaus. It's been a while."

" _Quite_ a while." He adds and she laughs then, a small thing but precious and to be savored nonetheless.

"Two hundred years should be nothing more than a while for people like us, especially you. It makes it easier to bear, don't you think?" She smiles and she laughs and she is radiant as the setting sun yet the slightest trace of melancholy lingers in her eyes. Buried underneath her blinding smiles and melodious giggles, Caroline was always such a tragic tale at the very core of her.

He steps closer slowly, carefully, and when she does not tense, he rests his hands on the railing mere inches away from where her back leans against the delicate, curving wrought iron. He does not turn to seek her eyes, speaking instead to the skies that stretch far beyond his sight. "The passing of time is felt by all, and two hundred years remain quite a bit of time even for me."

She doesn't remember him sounding quite so tired, but time has a way of doing that to you. Caroline's younger, so much younger in comparison to him, and already she's lost a bit of the wonder in her eyes, a bit of her love for life. These are things she hesitates to tell him though, because what are her mere two centuries in comparison to his twelve? And so silence settles upon them like the darkness that now covers the world as he studies the night sky and she observes the dancing couples inside, just beyond the glass doors she had passed through not ten minutes ago.

Finally, he speaks again. "I'd expected to see your friends tonight." His words are casual, his tone is light. A calculated effort not to alert her – the time for hunting down that particular band of misfits is long over. But she turns away from him just the slightest bit, and it is a while before she answers him.

"They're dead." She says simply, ignoring the pain that threatens to swallow her whole even now, years and years after the last incident. His eyes widen then, the first real show of emotion she's seen so far, as he turns to face her. He holds her gaze and she does not back down, does not give in to the tears that threaten to spill over. Klaus looks like he might apologize, offer his condolences, maybe take her in his arms and be the strength she desperately needs in this lonely world-

But he does not. It is not their way, not anymore. She is not that young girl from Mystic Falls, desperately in need of attention and charm and fairytale-prince gestures and he is no longer playing the part of her white knight. So he bites back kind words of comfort and asks the first question that comes to mind.

"All of them?"

Caroline shakes her head and turns her back to the glass doors, training her eyes on the sky. With her face turned away from the bright lights of the ballroom, she almost succeeds in hiding the tears in her eyes. "Damon's still around, surprisingly. He was supposed to be here tonight but," And here she shrugs and puts on a small smile for his benefit. "I guess he'd rather be off terrorizing a small town somewhere in Europe instead of spending Christmas with the only friend he has left."

"Some things never change, I suppose," The amount of comfort he draws from that borders on ridiculous. He offers her a laugh to ease the unspoken tension in the air, and decides not to push for more details on the loss of her friends. If tonight is a memory that will have to tide him through the next two centuries, Klaus wants to remember only a smiling, laughing, glowing Caroline.

She sighs, seeking out the few stars bright enough to pierce through the increasingly hazy sky. "He's not that bad, not anymore. I mean, he can't be bothered to show up to my weddings but he's always here for the divorces, at least."

The ease with which those words slip past her lips indicates that his spies might not be as subtle as he would like to believe. Still, he sees no wrong in sending a few acquaintances to check up on her every once in a while. Friends do that, yes? He offers her no sheepish looks or apologetic smiles, but has the decency to admit to his questionable behavior – in a way.

"I take it the third time was _not_ the charm?"

Her laugh is unlike any he's ever heard from her, and it shakes something within him. Bitterness does not become Caroline, even if there is beauty in the cold glint of her eyes and the sharp smile on her lips. "No," She answers him bluntly, her eyes almost _daring_ him to pry. "Not even close."

Some things, he thinks, are best left alone. Her past can be one of those things. "Well," Klaus offers encouragingly, biting back a million questions and a few death threats - a white knight no more but he can still be of service, should she wish it. "There's always the fourth time."

This time, her laugh is almost familiar. Almost – that's the thing about immortality. Time has the power to change anything and everything, and immortality is an endless string of _almost_ , of fighting against the siren song of bittersweet nostalgia and accepting, with a heavy heart, that nothing remains unchanged and _almost_ is as close as it gets. So he closes his eyes for the shortest of moments and savors her almost familiar laugh.

"No," Caroline shakes her head. "Not for me. I'm done. You know what the problem – _my_ problem – is?" She doesn't wait for him to offer his input. "I'm too in love with love, and it blinds me. Damon pointed it out but that doesn't make it any less true. I _am_ too in love with love and look where it's gotten me?" Her sigh speaks of resignation, of a broken heart too fragile to take another beating. "There won't be a fourth time for me. Never again."

It's the longest string of sentences she's offered him all evening, and she's too caught up in her words to restrain herself, to beat back the fire in her eyes. In those eyes he catches glimpses of a rapidly-fading Caroline, a memory of who she was all those years ago. He misses that Caroline, misses her flashing eyes and her bubbly laughter and her endless stream of words. The thought of losing that girl forever, trading her in for this pale shadow of a once-magnificent sun – it is unbearable.

"There _will_ be a fourth time," He vows, reaching out to take her hand. "And a fifth time if need be, and a sixth, and so on until you find your happiness. And you will find your happiness, Caroline – the fates owe you that much. Life is cruel and ruinous to all beautiful things," He lowers his voice, using his free hand to brush back a loose curl as she watches him with wide, conflicted eyes. "And leaves in its wake an endless list of casualties. I will not let you join that list."

In the wake of his heartfelt declaration, silence settles upon them like a blanket. His hand cups her cheek, her fingers curl around his and it feels like they are the only two people in the world – for seconds, minutes, years, a short eternity if such a contradictory thing could exist.

Caroline abruptly snatches her hand away and turns her back to him, her eyes fixed upon the heavens. "You should get back to your date," She says. The words are not cold or jealous, teasing or prying; they are simply words used to break the silence.

"I doubt Rebekah has felt my absence," He comments and finally, _finally_ – she whirls around and her eyes are burning and her hands are all over the place and she is utterly, completely, gloriously _Caroline_.

"You brought _your sister_ to my ball?" Caroline shrieks, gesturing wildly with flailing hands. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you, Klaus? Why don't you just go ahead and clink your damn champagne glass and announce to the room that I'm a freaking _vampire_?"

And oh, he shouldn't enjoy this half as much as he does but he can't help the grin pulling at his lips. "Rebekah has come to appreciate subtlety, I assure you," His attempts to placate her are met simply with an exasperated huff and a roll of her eyes. "Besides, it's been thirty-seven years since that mess with the online video. I'm sure most people have forgotten who she is… _what_ she is," He adds after a moment's thought. The reminder only seems to agitate Caroline.

"The Internet never forgets," She hisses. "Goddamn it, Klaus, I _just_ got settled into this life and now your crazy sister is going to blow my cover and I'll have to move _again_ and do you know how much of a pain in the ass that is? Not all of us like to live completely isolated from society and hidden from the law."

He's not hidden from the law, exactly - he just happens to get around without the hassle of an assumed identity and passports and the likes - but something tells him that pointing that out to her won't help him. And that crazy sister of his _is_ remarkably talented at blowing their covers, as Caroline so eloquently phrased it. After all, it takes a fair bit of talent to completely screw up and alert the world to the existence of vampires.

Perhaps his fuming hostess has a point.

"I suppose I should fetch her before she makes a scene," Klaus concedes with a sigh. "It is nearly time for us to leave, anyway." They were never scheduled to make a stop in this city but once he had caught whispers of a winter's ball thrown by a certain mysterious blonde… well, even his sister had known better than to protest, deciding merely to roll her eyes and retreat into her closet with a resigned sigh as she hunted down a dress.

"Leave?" Caroline echoes weakly, a stricken look on her face. "But you just- never mind," She shakes her head, as if to clear it from that particular line of thought. "Yes, you should get your sister out of here before someone recognizes her and starts connecting the dots." He's not sure that there areany dots to connect, but Caroline and Rebekah _had_ gone through a short period where they'd inexplicably put aside their differences and turned into the closest of friends. If all of her friends truly are dead, that would explain her sudden, desperate need for familiar faces a few decades ago – desperate enough to turn to his sister, of all people. He would have rushed to her side, if only she had reached out – perhaps she doesn't know that. And perhaps he is glad for it, because how many times will he let Caroline Forbes make a fool out of him? Better for her to merely suspect the depth of his affection, instead of knowing with absolute certainty that he will come running whenever she calls.

She stares at him now, arms crossed and one foot tapping against the ground in measured beats. So many things he had imagined for this evening, so many expectations he had harbored for their reunion. And behold, how easily she dismisses him now. This is how it ends then, this chapter between them that has been two hundred years in the making.

"I should," He nods decisively, and turns to leave without a good-bye.

"I'm going to Paris next week."

Such simple words should not be enough to stop him in his tracks, to make him turn around and give her another chance. Yet turn around he does, and he watches her wring her hands as she offers him a tiny smile.

"I've never been. Unbelievable, I know," Caroline laughs. It's weak, barely more than a forceful exhale that hints at amusement. But he can't help the smile that tugs at his lips in return. "I just… I was waiting for someone to show me around, I guess," She shrugs and makes a show of looking at him through lowered eyelids, shy and hesitant and hopeful.

So one chapter has ended, and now she is leaving it up to him to write the next.

"I've always found the Eiffel Tower to be particularly festive on New Year's Eve," He offers casually.

She smiles. "I've heard it's beautiful at sunset."

He nods. There's nothing left to say, not today. This time, she lets him go in silence and he doesn't turn back, simply makes his way back into the ballroom and through the crowd until he finds his sister and tells her it's time to leave.

As they slip away from the ball, an ancient clock chimes the midnight hour and people start wishing each other a merry Christmas, shouting to be heard over a pianist's energetic rendition of _Joy to the World_ and the excited cheers of inebriated partygoers.

In his mind's eye, Klaus pictures Caroline gliding back into the ballroom mere seconds before the clock chimes, conjures from memory the bright smile she'll wear as she accepts a glass of champagne, fantasizes about being by her side as they make their way around the ballroom to speak to her guests.

A week later he's in Paris as the world counts down to a new year and he spots Caroline making her way to him with a minute to spare, treasures the way her smile shines brighter than the lights of the famed tower itself, savors the dreamlike-haze that envelopes them as she wraps her arms around his neck and breathes _happy new year_ against his lips right before she kisses him as the crowd around them ushers in the year 2215.

Two hundred years later, she's finally ready for him to show her the world.

(It takes her another fifty years to decide where she wants to have the wedding. The whole world at her disposal and they end up getting married in what used to be Mystic Falls. At least Damon finally agrees to walk her down the aisle this time.)

* * *

 **Hello, Klaroline fandom! It's been a while. I started writing this** _ **last**_ **Christmas but hey, better late than never, right? On a related note, if anyone notices a shift in tone/writing style halfway-through, that's probably why. I know it's pretty shitty but I just wanted to write some Klaroline fluff for Christmas. Also, this takes place in some canon-divergent post S3 'verse. As usual, reviews are excellent Christmas presents!**

 **This is part of a holiday collection I put together for Christmas. If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read more, please check out the rest of the collection. Who knows, we might have some other fandoms in common!**

 **Merry Christmas and happy holidays!**

 _ **E Salvatore,**_

 _ **December 2015.**_


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